Absolution
by dishcalledhaggis
Summary: Jean, Logan...their relationship, lives, and their friends. This story was created after I nearly played the Absolution album by MUSE to death, therefore the title and the chapter titles will be named as such.
1. Apocalypse Please

Apocalypse Please

Apocalypse Please

"What's a girl like you doin' in a place like this?"

"The kitchen, Logan? Mmm, don't know," Jean smiled.

He kissed her shoulder, "Gumbo took the kids to the Danger Room."

"Which is why I'm in here making something for myself."

"Selfish," he teased.

"Excuse me? When was the last time you ever made food for teenagers," she smirked.

"Wasn't a last time, 'cause there wasn't a first."

"That's right," she lifted her head haughtily.

"I don't do that parentin' thing, darlin'."

"I know," Jean kept her smile in check as he turned her around to face him.

"I do other stuff to make up for it."

"Like what," she tilted her head to the side.

"Like...fightin," he smiled, slipping his hands around her hips.

"Yes…and," she pressed.

"Takin' you upstairs and havin' my way with ya," his voice was warm and rough.

"Logan," Jean laughed, squirming as he lifted her onto the counter.

"They're in the Danger Room, Jean."

"And ten minutes after we get started we'll be interrupted because your little warriors will want to tell you ALL about how they kicked ass," she smiled.

"Damnit Jean…" he dropped his head on her shoulder.

"Logan…make it fast-" Jean slipped off the counter, grinning as he kissed her hard.

The phone rang, making her groan with disappointment.

"Ignore it," he muttered, kissing her throat.

"I can't, just give me five seconds."

"I'm countin'."

"Hello, Xavier's. Scott?"

Logan grunted with frustration, Scott was known to be chatty, especially after a mission.  
The phone dropped from Jean's ear, looking to Logan helplessly.  
"What is it," he asked.  
"Charles is dead."  
"There's no way, you'd know it, let me have the phone-"  
"Scott is bringing his body home."  
"Talk to me..." Logan demanded.  
--

Jean traced the outline of her gold monogrammed stationary, sitting at the large oak desk as the late afternoon sun warmed her back through the large picture window.  
"Hello."  
"Logan."  
"Jean," he felt his jaw clench at speaking her name.  
"I-" she began, a knot in her throat.  
"You remembered the number."  
"Yes, I wanted-" she traced the 'J' on the stationary again, followed by the 'X'…  
"Have you called to admit you were wrong?"  
She winced at his tone, "No, but I have news."  
"Not interested."

He hung up.

"Logan, you bastard…" she muttered, dialing again.  
Logan ignored the insistent ring of the phone for the next ten minutes, busying himself around his cabin before walking outside. The woman wouldn't give up. Uttering an angry grunt, he stalked inside, snatching up the receiver.  
"What!"  
"Listen, Kitty is getting married in a few weeks. I thought you might like to know," Jean snapped, hanging up the phone.


	2. Time Is Running Out

She stood in the doorway of the hangar, hands clasped in front of her, concentrating on her breathing. In…out…in…out…

If she thought about anything else, she'd collapse on the spot. Logan was there, waiting quietly. It had only been minutes since the call came in.

The hangar doors parted above her head, and she watched as the Blackbird landed smoothly. The stairs dropped, Scott and Storm carried the gurney down slowly. Jean walked up to them, ever the calm doctor, and pressed the button to drop the wheeled legs.

While Scott's cheeks were wet with tears, Storm was like Jean and hid them until she could be alone. Josh Foley and Kitty exited the jet like zombies, their eyes wide and vacant.

"Could you look after them, while I take him to the infirmary," Jean asked Logan, who nodded.

"You all right," Logan asked Scott, who shook his head once.  
Jean walked beside the gurney, holding onto the handle as she held her feelings behind a carefully composed mental wall.

"Storm, can ya take the kids," Logan asked.

"Sure. C'mon, let's get you something warm to drink," Storm coaxed the students in their shocked state.

"What happened out there, Scott," Logan asked.

"Oh god, Logan, it wasn't anything we haven't been through before…" he whispered roughly, and Jean shut them out long after the doors had closed behind her.

In the infirmary, she gripped the zipper of the body bag with trembling fingers and pulled it open. She choked back a sob, seeing her mentor's face still, as if he were only asleep.  
"Charles..." she whispered, automatically reaching her mind out to his.  
There was nothing. Her power didn't understand, and kept attempting to reach him. He must have known he was going to die, and severed their link quickly and quietly to spare her the trauma.  
Something inside Jean broke, knowing he was gone.  
She bent her head to Charles' chest and wept.  
"Jean?"  
Logan had seen countless dead bodies, but he couldn't look at Charles. It frightened him to know their leader was lying there.  
"I can't believe he's really gone," she whispered.  
Logan walked outside and howled.

Present Day…

The women of the mansion sat around the dining room table with lists and snacks when a long-unheard noise made them look up. Jean glanced over at the security feed on the TV monitor as a motorcycle pulled up to the front doors, and continued with her task.  
"It's him," Kitty smiled, shoving back her chair to rush to the door.  
The young woman's excitement spurred the others to stand up, except for Jean.  
"Jean," Ororo sighed.  
"I'm coming," she stood, smoothing her already perfectly pinned hair in a gesture that betrayed nervousness.

"You look great," Ororo reassured.

"That doesn't matter."  
"Logan!"  
"Hey Punkin," he smiled. "Stormy."  
"Hello Logan, it's good to see you again," Ororo leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.  
"When Jean called I didn't get all of the information on the wedding-"  
"It's three weeks from tomorrow. You hung up on her, didn't you," Kitty scowled.  
"She got her chance to hang up on me, too."  
"Why can't the two of you just-"  
"Katherine, we are adults. Let us deal with it how we will," Jean asked, leaning against the door.  
"I'm gonna go crash in my old room, if the boss lady doesn't mind," he smirked.  
"Not at all," Jean turned on her heel. "Just stay out of the way, and we'll be fine."  
"No problem," he snarled.  
Logan walked to the teacher's wing as he let his anger make a nice hot pit in his stomach. Time hadn't done much to Jean but make her even colder, she was still good-looking as ever, not that he hoped she could at least have let herself go a little so it wasn't so hard on him. He left his inner thoughts behind as he looked up, having gone to the room he and Jean used to share.

"Goddamn it," he muttered, nearly knocking the door to his old room off the hinges, dropping the bag as he fell onto the bed.  
"...and then Bobby woke up in a dress!"  
The dinner table erupted in laughter as they remembered Bobby Drake, now a math teacher at the Mansion, in a perfectly executed prank. It was one of very few times they had gotten him back, especially when Kurt came to live at the mansion. The house was in a constant state of paranoia over who the next victim was when it came to one of Bobby's pranks.  
"What about the time when Logan nearly skinned him for..." Kitty blushed and looked down.  
Logan and Jean caught eyes across the table, and Jean reached for her water glass. A miscalculation in a prank meant for Jean ended in the not-so-subtle announcement to the whole mansion that Jean and Logan were seeing each other…and half-naked on her bed.  
"Bobby never had the best of timing," Jean commented lightly.  
"I'm sitting right here," Bobby moaned.  
"We know," Ororo smiled.  
"You could talk more about Kurt, you know," Bobby jabbed his knife in Kurt's direction.  
"We're gettin' to it," Logan smirked.  
Jean looked to the TV monitor as a car pulled through the gates, and nearly sprinted to the door.  
"What's that about?"  
Ororo went over to the monitor. "Betsy is here."  
Jean came back in with a bright smile on her face, holding a baby in her arms as Warren and Betsy told her about their drive into Westchester.  
"Who's that," Logan asked, sniffing the air.  
"Norah," Kitty smiled.  
"Goodness, who is this I see gracing us with his presence," Betsy smiled and hugged Logan.  
"You went Mommy on me," he asked, eyebrow quirked in confusion.  
"Can't be just an assassin forever," Betsy laughed.  
"Well...I'll give the kid a chance then," Logan smiled.  
"You can try and pry her out of her godmother's arms, if you dare."  
Norah squealed as Jean held her up in the air, kicking her little legs in a fit of happiness.  
"I'll wait."  
"So, you're back for the wedding?"  
"Yeah," Logan watched as the baby was passed to Ororo, and then Kitty.  
"Then you'll disappear until the next wedding?"  
"I'm busy."  
"Right, good luck with all that," she smiled wryly.  
"I'm not welcome here."  
"She let you in," Betsy teased.  
"She's doing it for Kitty. I was told to stay out of the way."  
"Wedding planning makes one touchy."  
"She hasn't been properly touched in a long time," he snarled. "Except maybe her brains."  
"Please Logan, tell us what you really think," Jean stood behind him, arms crossed over her chest.  
"Jean-" Betsy started.  
"I've got you in Warren's old room," she spoke to Betsy and left the room.  
"You really have a way with women," Warren commented.  
"Says you," Logan cracked his knuckles.  
"Married," Warren held up his left hand.  
"Just means she's got you on a shorter leash."  
"I thought you wanted a shorter leash yourself," Betsy asked.  
"Yeah, you were just lookin' at what I would have been married to. Saved me some grief."  
"Logan, I know she hurt you but..." Betsy tried to come to Jean's defense.  
"I'll meet your little one tomorrow," he said as he left the room.


	3. Sing For Absolution

Logan sat on the side of the bed, watching Jean sleep. She looked so worn down since the read of Xavier's will, dark circles appearing purple under her green eyes. Ever the excellent apprentice, she did not refuse the passing of the estate to her hands, and never complained when the long hours delegating with different factions took a toll on her telepathic gift.

"Logan?"  
"Yeah," he reached out, touching the part of the blankets that was her calf.  
"What are you doing up…" she asked groggily.  
"I was hopin' you wouldn't notice."  
"We share a bed; I know when you're not sleeping," she managed a weak smile in the dark.  
"I'm worried about you."  
"Come to bed, Logan."  
He stood up and shed his clothes as he walked around the bed, slipping under the blankets with her. She sighed with contentment as their bodies shifted to be as close as possible.  
"Are you okay," he asked quietly.  
"I miss him," she sighed; Logan could hear the tightness in her throat as she tried not to cry.  
"So do I," he leaned in, giving her mouth a gentle caress with his own.  
"Don't ever leave me," she spoke urgently, dragging her nails down his back.  
"Never," he kissed her again.

Present Day…

Looking into the TV room, Betsy smiled as she saw Logan sprawled across the couch, one long arm hanging over the back.

"Are you busy," Betsy asked, Norah in her arms.  
"Nah, give her here," Logan held his hands out.  
Norah didn't hesitate leaving her mother's arms, staring openly at Logan with amazement. Even a child of nine months could tell when someone was irresistible, strange hairstyle or not. Betsy kept her own amazement concealed where Logan couldn't see it as she watched his initial hesitance fade, adjusting Norah into a comfortable position against his chest.  
"I never pegged you for the baby-type."  
"I never did, either," he smirked as Norah smiled at him.  
"Does she pass?"  
"Yeah, you can keep her," he chuckled as Norah grabbed his dog tags and cooed at the sound of the metal chiming.  
"Why, thank you," Betsy laughed.  
Norah chewed her fist, drooling a bit on his shirt.  
"Oh sorry Logan, she's teething."  
"No big deal, might want to get her one of those rings before she gets a taste for human flesh," Logan stood up, compensating for standing up by placing his hand on Norah's back.  
He reached into the playpen, handing her the ring and she jammed it into her mouth hungrily.  
"You know, you're kind of good at this," Betsy smiled.  
"I'm just holding her."  
"But you're comfortable with her, I thought you'd be holding her out at arm's length," she chuckled.  
"She's your kid, not just anyone's ankle-biter."  
"You weren't that crazy about the kids when you first came here," she pointed out.  
"They were already big and loud..." he looked down at Norah and smiled.  
Betsy smiled, feeling her heart thump hard in her chest. With Norah in his arms, he looked like any other man, not one who had killed and lost so much over his lifetimes.  
"Do you want one?"  
"I like her, but I'm not taking her off your hands permanently," he snorted.  
"One of your own," Betsy chuckled.  
"Betsy, come on..."  
"I'm just asking if you want one, not if you want one with-"  
Logan shook his head and Betsy stopped, knowing he didn't want to hear it. Not because he hated being pushed, but because he was still in pain.  
"I'm sorry," she added.  
"I know you mean well, Betsy."  
"I really do."  
"She's a beauty, takes after you," Logan commented.

"Thank you," Betsy felt herself blush, but Logan had that kind of effect on women.

"Where are you living at now?"

"Connecticut," she smiled.

"Worthington the Third, living out of the big time?"

"Well we do live in Hartford, so he's not completely removed from it all. He's got a family now, he'd rather spend time with Norah and me," Betsy beamed.

"You trained him good," he chuckled.

"Would you expect anything less from me?"

"Never, Braddock," Logan was staring at Norah now as she played with his dog tags.

"She doesn't have a godfather, you know."

"Why the hell not," he arched an eyebrow.

"Because you took off," she replied with a smile.

"Bets…you don't want me lookin' out for her immortal soul and such," he sniffed, smelling the baby shampoo Betsy used on Norah's hair.

"I'm not worried about her immortal soul, Logan."

"You should when her godmother and I are arguing in front of her."

"There's no one else good enough for my girl, Lo."

"Don't call me that," he groaned.

"Oh come on, you missed it," she grinned.

"I did not," he growled.

"Look at you! You already adore her," she gestured with a quick flick of her wrist.

"Elizabeth…"

"We live in Hartford; you don't have to come here to visit her."

"All right, I'll think about it," Logan looked at Norah, wanting to kick himself for the little warm spot for the baby already worming right in between the Terror Trio's place in his heart. The Trio being Kitty, Jubilee, and Rogue, naturally; no doubt once they were all together and knew he was there, they'd be all over him for the rest of his visit.


	4. Stockholm Syndrome

"Get out!"  
"Jean you are pushing this too far."  
"I am," she arched an eyebrow that suggested Logan was taking the wrong approach.  
"What are you doing," he asked as she grabbed a suitcase.  
"If you won't leave this room, I will."  
"C'mon, calm down..." he reached for the bag.  
"I will not! You won't listen to me," she pulled away from him.  
"You won't listen to what I want!"  
"What you want has to wait!"  
"Charles wouldn't want his death to tear us apart!"  
"It has, don't you see it? I can't be your Jean anymore; I'm the leader of this team!"  
"You think you have to give it up, like he did."  
"I have to keep this team together, Logan. Don't you know that," she asked, tears in her eyes.  
"Can you live with that, Jean?"  
"I have to make sacrifices," she sobbed.  
"I made sacrifices to be with you, doesn't that count," he shouted.  
"What sacrifices?"  
"I never stayed in one place-"  
"Oh! Not that again. I never asked you to stay for me," Jean pointed her finger at him.  
"I'll leave," he shoved his legs into his jeans.  
"It was only a matter of time."  
"Yeah, I never surprise you, do I," he grabbed his jacket and slammed the door.

Present Day…

Storm opened the door, sticking her head in.

"…the flowers? Perfect, thank you so much," Jean smiled, waving them in while she finished her phone call.

Her usual pack of female accomplices, plus Betsy and Emma, who had just arrived from England, sauntered, swung, bounced, and wiggled into the room. In seconds the austere environment became a lively chatter of women, cuddling Norah, catching up on news, spreading out the snacks (the X-Women lived for snacks). Jean hung up the phone and sat back for a moment, content with the beautiful faces making a lovely, if empty space, much more like a home.

"You look like a school matron," Emma said with disgust of Jean's bun, pulling the pins with practiced ease, and then dropped her shirt three buttons.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Emma," Jean smiled.

"If it will get you to loosen up," she smirked in return.

"It was like old times, the other night at dinner," Rogue smiled as she picked from a plate of food.

"Felt like the family was back together again," Kitty smiled in agreement.

"Logan helped me in with my bags this morning…"Emma glanced at Jean.

"He's here for the wedding," Jean replied.

"As soon as I mentioned you, his mind went places you would not believe," Emma continued.

"Em, please don't."

"I can't help it if the man can broadcast his lusty thoughts like a television tower," the White Queen shrugged.

"I managed to get you those roses you wanted, Kitty," Jean smiled at the bride-to-be.

"Oh, you did! Jean," Kitty phased over from her place next to Rogue and hugged Jean. "You didn't have to; I'm being such a Bridezilla."

"You are not; you're the happiest bride I've ever seen," Jean pulled back to look at Kitty, stroking the young woman's hair back.

"Happiest in a long time," Betsy agreed.

"You were over the moon, Bets."

"I was also delirious with morning sickness, but you know," she shrugged as she laughed.

"There was only one bride I remember, who was not so happy."

"Emma," Storm hissed.

"We're talking brides, and there is one here who-"

"Emma, I love you, but please shut the hell up before I telekinetically bitch slap you," Jean muttered.

"Jean dear, you must stop lying to yourself. Now, give me the moppet, she's not seen her Auntie Emma," Emma held her hands out for Norah.

"Excuse us," Betsy stood and took Jean's hand, leading her into a private hallway that gave Jean direct access to Cerebro.  
"He thought I could do it all, Betsy," Jean paced the hall.  
"I know."  
"I'm a powerful Mutant, but at the end of the day I'm just a woman like any other!"  
"I know," Betsy repeated.  
"Why didn't Logan understand? I lose my mentor, and he was pushing me further along-" her ponytail swung as she shook her head.  
"Jean, Charles has been dead four years now. You made it through, and you became a great leader..."  
"But what," she supplied.  
"Get over it, and get your life back."  
"How do you suggest I do that?"  
"Getting the feral man back into the mansion," Emma said matter-of-factly, having let her self into the hall.  
"That's not going to happen," Jean held out her arms for Norah, bouncing her goddaughter as she walked back into the office.  
"There's still chemistry there," Kitty smiled.  
"That's hate. He hates me for what happened."  
"He's angry, but he doesn't hate you," Rogue tried to reassure Jean.  
"He'd never come back, I hurt him."

"Logan is a good man, he'd do anything..."

"Leave it, would you," Jean asked quietly, kissing Norah's tiny fingers gripped around her own.

Emma looked to Betsy behind Jean's back, who only shrugged, unsure what to do.

_We'll leave it for now._

_They're both too stubborn for their own good, _Betsy replied with a smirk.

_That's why they're perfect for one another._


	5. Falling Away With You

Logan looked into their bedroom at Jean curled up on her side of the bed, with her hand stretched out over where he usually lay. He slipped off his jacket, and crawled onto the bed, placing her hand on his chest.

"Hi," she opened her eyes, seeing his staring back at her.

"Hi there."

"I'm sorry."

He kissed her softly; coaxing her against his side with a gentle pull on her wrist.

"It's almost six," she looked to the clock on his side of the bed.

"You don't have to be up before everyone every day, Jean."

"I have so much to do…"

"Just sleep until seven, I'll make sure you get up-" he looked to the door, a knock following a breath later.

"It's Bobby," Jean sighed.

"Don't get up, I'll take care of it," Logan slipped off the bed, talking to Bobby in hushed tones.

"…I wouldn't have come if I could handle it on my own…"

"Tell them to call back, she's trying to get some rest," Logan argued.

Jean opened the door, slipping on her glasses.

"Its okay, Bobby. I'll take the call."

"Jean-" Logan grunted.

"I'll see you later," she kissed Logan on the lips and left him standing in the hallway alone.

Present Day…

"Do you always have to tinker with these bikes, they're in perfect condition," a mid-level voice met Logan's ears.

"They can always be better," he smirked.

"Are these more to your liking than real women," Scott smiled.

"These bikes will tell you when something is wrong," Logan stood up, wiping the grease off his hands.

They stood there a moment, sizing each other up.

"How ya doin', Scooter?"

"Can't complain, it's been awhile," he held his hand out.

"Sure has," Logan smirked and accepted the hand to shake.

"How long have you been back," Scott set his jacket aside, leaning on the shop counter.

"A week. What took you so long?"

"Training new Mutants, takes awhile," he shrugged. "The offer still stands, if you're interested."

"Kids…I dunno, Scott. I barely like the ones that lived here," Logan had a pained look about him.

"You liked them better than me," Scott reminded with a grin.

"For a time," Logan admitted with a smile.

Scott rolled up his sleeves, crouching down beside the motorcycle.

"Uh-uh, you get your own. Louise is mine," Logan muttered.

"Have you touched the cars yet?"

"Naw, that was next on my list."

"Then I'll get started there," Scott gave a smartass smirk and looked around the garage until his eyes fell on Jean's black Mustang.

"Not that one."

"Why not, never got my hands on her," Scott reached out to touch the hood.

"Never will, either," Logan growled.

"Some things never change," Scott chuckled, popping the hood on Storm's Camaro.

"Did you survive the gauntlet of hormones," Logan asked.

"Barely. Kitty couldn't get herself under control, kept phasing through me when she tried to hug me."

"She's excited," Logan smiled.

"Haven't seen her like that since she first got through a session in the Danger Room by herself," Scott laughed.

"The girl's in love, bound to make her a little crazy."  
"You did a good job raising her, Logan."  
"Raising who," Kitty draped herself over Logan's back, watching him work.

"You, Kitten."

"Yes, you did," she smiled, looking everything like her namesake.

"Run outta things to plan," Logan asked.

"Jean's determined for me to be happy and relaxed these last two weeks," she dropped an arm over Logan's shoulder.

"Where's Piotr," Scott asked.

"He's finishing up some projects before he comes to New York," she spoke with such pride in her voice of her husband-to-be that it made Logan's stomach ache.

"You two gonna live in the Mans'," Logan asked.

"Yeah, we spend enough time here, it makes sense to settle in a place we both like."

"You guys hungry?"

"Depends, you feedin' us?"

"Of course! Oh, Logan I have something to ask you, too…" she walked back into the house, still chattering away.

"So I raised her right," Logan looked back at Scott.

"Hey, she was chatty before you got ahold of her," Scott shrugged.


	6. Interlude

"Time alone," Logan smiled.

"I'm all sleepy," Jean hitched a corner of her mouth up, curled up around his pillow.

"I'll take you any way I can get you," he chuckled, crawling onto the bed next to her.

"Logan…" Jean groaned happily, his mouth trailing under her ear.

"Marry me, Jean."

"I can't, not right now."

"Just agree to marry me, the wedding can wait," he plucked the buttons loose on her shirt.

She didn't answer, and Logan stopped placing kisses on her sternum to look at her face.

"Jean."

"I'll think about it, now come here."

Present Day...

Logan placed his hands on Jean's shoulders, pulling back as she spun around.  
"Logan!"  
"I won't touch you again."  
"You only startled me. I totally lost track of time."  
"It's almost midnight."  
Jean pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "These wedding plans..."  
He put his hands to her shoulders again and squeezed, remembering Jean's stress spots.

"Anything you need help with?"

"No, it's all done," her back lost some of its stiffness, leaning forward on her elbows.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Making sure it all goes off without a hitch."

"You still have two weeks," he reminded.

"For everything to hit the skids in five days' time," she chuckled.

"Don't think the worst of everything, Jean."

"I know, I try really hard," she sighed.

"See where that gets you," he replied.

"What's that supposed to mean," she turned in her chair to face him.

"You try and try and try, and it all gets done…but where does it get you."

"Logan, please…" she turned her face away, curls falling across her face like a scarlet satin curtain.

"No, you aren't going to hide from me," he brushed her hair back, spreading his fingers out into her hair.

Jean avoided his piercing stare, her pulse thumping hard under his hand. No matter what she had done to try and harden her heart toward him, the slightest touch betrayed her careful compsure.

"It doesn't get you anything but loneliness."

"I have to…"

"You don't _have to_ do anything, you're the most powerful Mutant alive. You call the shots."

"I can't be selfish."

"Wanting the happiness you rightly deserve is not selfish, you aren't asking the world."

"So many close calls, Logan. What if I died, what then?"

"One of two things. I'd follow ya there, or drag you back to the land of the living."

"Says the second most powerful Mutant," she muttered.

"I may not be able to harness the world in my fist, but I'm a determined bastard hell bent on having what I want."


	7. Hysteria

This was the worst moment of her life. The man she loved sitting across from her at the kitchen table, only wanting to have their lives entwined forever, and she had to put a stop to it. There was no more stalling, he wouldn't take her gentle refusals for an answer. In her mind, she had to choose one path, and leave one behind.

"You agreed to think about it," Logan replied, his tone wounded.

"I would _think_ about it."

"You love me."

"I can't marry you right now."

"Just wear the ring, Jean."

She pushed the box back to him across the table. Logan stood, watching her sit there calmly, just staring at her hands. With a breath that jabbed at his lungs viciously, he picked up the box and headed out of the room.

"I'll be out before dinner," he muttered, pushing through the door.

"How did it go," Kitty phased through the wall with a smile on her face.

Logan was glad for the dim hallway; Kitty wouldn't be able to see his tears.

"I gotta go, Kitten."

"No, Logan please-" Kitty followed him down the hall.

He sighed heavily as she wrapped her arms tight around his waist, hugging her back.

"Can't stay here, Katherine."

"She's only sad because of the Professor. It will get better," she pleaded.

"Can't wait around anymore," he kissed the top of her head. "Go on back to your movie."

Present Day…

"Good morning."

Logan bit back a growl; she spoke to him like a stranger. Not someone she once shared her bed and her life with.  
"Got something on your mind," Jean asked, pouring a cup of coffee.  
"Kitty wants me to give her away."  
"You should."  
"Don't have a suit."  
"I'll go with you into town later," Jean offered, pouring a bit of creamer into her cup.  
"Not gonna pawn me off on one of the guys?"  
"I helped Kitty pick out the suits for Piotr and his groomsmen. If I trusted the guys to dress you, there would be disaster," she smiled.  
"What time do you want me?"

"Nine. So don't get caught up in tuning any cars," she smiled, turning to leave.

"One thing."

She looked over her shoulder with a curious expression. "What's that?"

"Change your clothes," Logan looked to her suit with barely concealed irritation.

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Makes you look old, go put on your jeans."

"It's a high end store, Logan," she rolled her eyes; he was never one for a dress code.

"Short skirt," he suggested the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"We'll see," she laughed.

One hour later, Jean pulled into the parking lot. The smile on her lips stalled when she saw Logan's expression, the human equivalent of an animal backing from an unfamiliar situation.

"What is it?"  
"I don't know about this, Jean."  
"It's only for one day," she reminded. "It's for Kitty."  
"Yeah...let's get this over with," he opened the passenger door and got out.  
Jean tried not to smile as Logan followed close behind, his expression one of complete defeat at all the suits surrounding him.  
"Can I help you?"  
"He's giving a bride away," Jean smiled to the woman offering her help.  
"Is he married," she asked Jean.  
"Almost, once," she murmured quietly, though she knew he heard her.  
"Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"  
"Black, very basic," Jean instructed.

"Let's get you measured, then."  
Jean held Logan's jacket as Cindy, the employee, took measurements of his body, her thoughts becoming more and more impressed...and inappropriate. She looked at Jean, who only shrugged with a smile.  
Logan watched Jean from the corner of his eye as they fitted him in the suit. She knew he was going crazy from standing still.  
_**Talk to me.**__  
It won't be much longer, I promise.  
__**Kitty better appreciate this.**__  
You know she will. Looks good.  
__**Oh yeah?**__  
Oh yeah.  
__**Wishin' you had said yes to my proposal?  
**__Logan..._

Jean left him standing there being pinned to make the arrangements, and to get away from the conversation. At least Logan still respected that when she left a telepathic conversation, he knew better than to push.

The ride home was quiet, the tension of partially spoken issues making it unpleasant for the first time that they ever sat in silence together.

"What happened to us, Logan."  
"I don't know."  
"I miss that," she admitted.  
"We were good together."  
"Until we weren't," she pointed out.  
"Jean, things got complicated."  
"But that's how life is, especially ours."  
"Couldn't stand up to the pressure," he tried to speak without his feelings on the subject coloring his words.  
"That's sad," she shook her head.  
"Charles died. You took over the team while you were still grieving."  
"And I pushed you away."  
"I wanted too much," Logan shrugged.  
"I became a bitch."  
"You had to be the backbone of this team."  
"Bitch is shorter," she smirked.


	8. Blackout

"I'm heading out."

"Have a good time, Kitty," Jean smiled.

"Aren't you going to walk me to the door?"

"I haven't walked you to the door since you were thirteen."

"I could be snatched off the front step by Brotherhood," Kitty tried desperately to get Jean out from behind the desk.

"I know he's here, I heard the motorcycle," Jean replied.

"Mystique!"

"Kitty, go and have a good weekend with Logan," Jean wished with a firm tone that told her all other subjects weren't to be spoken of.

Present Day…

Logan walked past Warren's old room, stopping as he caught the sweet smell of Norah. Letting curiosity get the better of him, he stepped inside the room. Stepping carefully in his heavy boots, he walked up to the playpen and looked down at her.  
Then she started to cry.  
"Oh no, not me kid..."  
Norah sat up, opening and closing her fists as she held them above her head.  
"I do a whole lot better when you're happy...and when we've got your Mom nearby."  
But Norah didn't seem to understand that, she saw him and she wanted to be picked up, for reasons his sensitive nose picked up.  
"Okay, okay..." he reached into the playpen and picked her up, walking her over to the bed.  
He laid her down gently, supporting her neck with his hand.  
"I've watched Betsy do this, can't be that hard..." he muttered as he unsnapped what she called a 'onesie'.  
Pulling the plastic tabs on the diaper, what Logan's nose already smelled hit him full in the face.  
"Holy mother of..." he coughed, grabbing the baby wipes from the diaper bag.  
Jean walked into the living room, seeing Betsy leaning toward the baby monitor.  
"What are you-"  
"Shush, listen," she whispered, waving Jean over to the couch.  
_**For such a cute kid, you really know how to make a mess...**_ Logan's voice came from the monitor speaker.  
"What is he doing?"  
"Changing Norah," she grinned.  
"You are kidding me," Jean's mouth hung open.  
"I could never joke about this."  
_**There ya go, baby**__..._ he grunted, chuckling as she cooed at him. _**Let's go find your Mom.**_  
"Hide the monitor," Jean urged as they heard Logan's heavy footsteps on the stairs.  
Betsy tossed the device, cringing as it crashed into a pane of glass in the patio doors.  
"What was that," Jean scrambled outside to retrieve the monitor, replacing it with a paperweight.  
"I don't know, I panicked!"  
"I said hide the monitor," Jean picked up the pieces of glass.  
"I said I panicked; give me a break," Betsy knelt to help her.  
"Seriously are we pathetic or what," Jean groaned.  
"What are you two doing," Logan asked, getting two pair of wide eyes turned on him in return.  
"Betsy thought she saw a mouse," Jean blurted out.  
Betsy went red in the face and continued picking up pieces of glass.  
Logan snorted and walked away with Norah. "All-powerful Mutants...afraid of rodents," he chuckled.  
"A mouse-"  
"I'm sorry, I couldn't think of anything else-" she looked to Betsy. "Are you laughing?"  
"Yes!"


	9. Butterflies and Hurricanes

Jean shuffled through a stack of papers; her desk had become her life. She rarely made it to her bed at night, waking up on the office couch stiff and cold, only to sit at the desk and continue her work.  
"Where is that..." she muttered to herself.  
Tugging the left drawer open, she jammed her hand blindly inside and snatched her hand back with a gasp. Blood welled up on her palm,  
"Shit," she reached for a few tissues, looking carefully into the drawer.  
She pulled out the letter opener Logan had given her, a miniature version of one of his favorite swords. While he thought it was funny, she knew it was the first time he had expressed his love for her.  
_Logan would have come and carried her to bed.  
_She blamed it on lack of sleep, but with the opener in one hand and a wad of tissues in the other, she buried her head into those hands and cried quietly, whatever she was looking for completely forgotten.

Present Day…

"Hey Logan."  
"Worthington," he replied.  
"Have you seen my wife around?"  
"Follow the smell of diapers, might help you."  
"Would you mind giving me some help there, I don't exactly have your keen sense of smell."  
"They're heading this way," Logan muttered.  
The kitchen door swung open a minute later, Betsy holding Norah as Jean settled at the table with her list.  
"There she is."  
"Great," Logan snorted, though he smiled at Norah.  
"Which one of us," Betsy smiled.  
"Both, hand her over."  
Betsy gave Norah to Warren, placing a kiss on his lips.  
"I love this girl," Warren grinned as Norah gnawed on his finger.  
"If slobber is your thing," Logan muttered.  
"You don't seem to mind every time you have her in your arms," Jean replied.  
"I meant Warren."  
"How often do you hold Warren then," she smirked.  
"Sorry Logan, I'm taken," Warren smirked.  
"You're just jealous," Jean replied, looking over her glasses at him.  
"You know, bosslady, it's that mouth of yours that just makes me-"  
"Be my guest and try finishing that sentence," Jean rolled her eyes, not knowing Betsy did the same behind her back.  
"Charles would be so disappointed in you," Logan snarled.  
Betsy and Warren looked at each other, and left the room.  
"Take it out on the Danger Room, would you? I don't have time for one of your dark moods to destroy the mansion."  
"You just can't resist trying to make me angry enough to leave," he slammed his fist on the table.  
"Is it working," she demanded.  
"Try harder," he growled.  
"Be careful what you ask for, you'll get it," she stood up and headed to the door.  
"I'm not done with you," he followed her with a dangerous gaze.  
"I am!"


	10. The Small Print

"How are you, Jean?"  
"I'm busy...all the time," her lips turned up in a small smile.  
"You can ask us for help, you know," Scott rested his hands on the back of a chair.  
"I know."  
"Charles asked for help," he reminded.  
"I know, Scott. I will ask for help."  
"Good."  
"What did you really want to ask," Jean asked with an even tone, knowing he had other agendas for his visit.  
"You love him."  
"That's not a question."  
"Why did you let him leave?"  
"I didn't let him, it was his choice," she sighed.  
"One of these days you'll believe that, right?"  
"I have a call coming in, do you mind..." Jean turned away and picked up the phone.

Present Day…

Logan walked into the rehearsal dinner in a black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his usual pair of jeans and boots, though both were newer and meticulously clean. Grabbing a beer, he took a seat off in one corner, watching Jean from under hooded eyelids. Jean was wearing a dress that Logan would remember even if he had his memory wiped again. She had worn it on one of their dates, and he had almost ripped it to pieces when they got back to their room. It was black and molded to her figure, the modest neck and elbow-length sleeves hid the fact that there was a butt-skimming dip in the back, though for the first time since he came back her hair was down and loose, hiding her bare back unless she moved. Jean had showed him it came off easy enough.  
"Logan, you remember Piotr?"  
"Sure do. Congratulations kid, you got a good girl," Logan shook Piotr's hand while Kitty blushed.  
"Good to see you again, Logan. Thank you for accepting Kitty's request to give her away."  
"Don't mention it, I was never able to tell her no," Logan smirked.  
"Would you like some company," Kitty asked.  
"I'll wander around; you have plenty of people to talk to."  
"I'll be back," she promised.  
"I know you will," he smirked, watching them walk away.  
"Need another one," Jean asked, holding out an opened beer to Logan.  
He nodded his thanks, averting his eyes from her. That dress had a hold on him; he just kept replaying that smile on her face as it dropped around her feet...  
"Are you bored?"  
"You know I've never been good at mingling."  
"So let them come to us," she sat next to him, looking relaxed for once.  
"You never did get a taste for beer, did you," he asked, looking down at the wine glass in her hand.  
She shook her head, smiling. "I tried, you have to give me that."  
"Ya did," he nodded. "Why'd you wear that dress?"  
"It's the only thing I had in my closet that wasn't for business," she took a sip of wine.  
"Ya could have bought something new."  
"A classic never goes out of style," she smiled, looking down as her phone rang.

"That dress doesn't have pockets," Logan commented.

"Good memory," she replied, nonchalantly pulling the cell phone from between her breasts, checking the screen. "It's Hank."

"Don't answer, you aren't workin'."

"He's just getting back to me on the invite; there hasn't been reliable communication in Siberia."

"Siberia?"

"You know how he is, excuse me," she smiled, leaving the room to take the call.  
As promised, Kitty was back at his side the moment Jean slipped out.

"How are you?"  
"I'm fine Punkin', why?"  
"Because you've had your eyes on her all evening," she smiled.  
"She looks good," he shrugged.  
"More than good."  
Logan smirked, couldn't disagree with her on that one.  
"Talk to her about it."  
"Katherine, don't get into the past again," he shook his head.  
"At least so that you can have some closure," she asked.  
"I'll think about it."  
"See, you never could tell me no," she smiled.


	11. Endlessly

"Jean, wake up," Kitty whispered after phasing through the bedroom door and jumping onto her bed.

"Kitty, is something wrong?"

"No, it's wonderful!"

"What is it, Kitten," Jean smiled, stretching her arms overhead.

"Piotr asked me to marry him."

"He did, just tonight," Jean gasped.

"I said yes!"

Jean hugged Kitty fiercely, tears leaking down her cheeks. The tears were not only of Kitty's happy news, but of the realization she had let her own youth go by without marrying Logan. Only a few years in reality, but gone all the same.

"I'm so happy, so happy," Kitty whispered.

Present Day…

"Make sure that the groom's party leaves at the time I specified, Bobby."

"Got it, Jeannie!"

"Not a minute later, or it's your butt!"

"I said I got it!"

"Make sure Logan is with you!"

"Short, dark, and brooding, in the car at eleven!"

"Bobby," she warned.

"Get a drink, maybe two," he shouted back, heading for the rooms that occupied the groom's party.

"The guy will be the death of me," she smiled, opening her door.

"Jean," Logan called, running to catch her arm.

"What is it, Logan? Please tell me Bobby did not just break his leg, I'd like this day to go without too many powers being used. A normal day, just a wedding!"

"No."

"You can't back out on Kitty," she stated, looking dangerously close to calling Storm on him. "All you do is walk her down the aisle like you two practiced, say you're giving her away and sit down-"

"We need to talk," he stated, he meant business.

"This isn't a good time, Logan. I have to help Kitty get ready."

"She's got four other women helping her, you can spare some time for me."

"I've got so much to do-I still have to shower," Jean argued.

"We can talk while you shower," he smirked.

"Can't it wait, just five minutes?"

"So we can be civil at the wedding."

"Fine," she walked into the bathroom, closing the door long enough to undress and start the water.

Logan saw his permission to enter when the door slowly swung open from an invisible hand.

"Start talking," she ordered, the smell of bodywash drifting out to meet Logan's nose.

He cleared his throat, the scent nearly made him drunk. "Do you remember what we talked about before it happened?"

"Taking some time off from the team," she replied.

"We were gonna see what it was like, just for a month or two."

She was silent, having moved on to shampooing her hair.

Logan continued. "When you decided to take his place, I wanted our plans to stay the same. But you were still grieving, and the team couldn't wait."

"You pushed me too hard," she stated, grabbing a towel from the shelf on the wall.

"I should have listened," he caught her eyes as soon as the shower curtain pushed aside.

"This is your home as much as it is mine; I should never have pushed you to leave."

"I couldn't deal with our plans being destroyed; with you being so sad and I couldn't do anything to fix it," he followed her into her bedroom.

"What is it with men wanting to fix everything," she asked aloud.

"It's just in our nature."

"Mutant, human...it's always fix and solve," she ranted, tying a knot in her robe.

"What's with women always trying to talk about things? Always talking," Logan muttered under his breath.

"You can't fix a broken heart by making plans, Logan!"

"I know this now," he snapped.

"If you could have just let me breathe, I would have married you," she kept on, taking a towel to her hair.

"Jean," he spoke quietly, getting her attention.

"I had so much pressure from all sides, and I just couldn't...breathe."

He approached her with caution; Jean looked up from drying her hair with the towel.

"What good does talking about the past do us now? It's over," Jean brushed a few tears from her eyes.

"You know damn good and well that it isn't over," he replied, pulling her close for a kiss.

With the taste of his lips, Jean felt everything she denied herself flooding back into her veins. Before he lost control, Logan turned and left her room.

Jean touched her lips, and headed straight to Kitty's room. Betsy looked up, and her smile disappeared at the look in Jean's eyes.

'Are you okay,' she mouthed.

'I don't know,' Jean replied.

"Jean, are you crying?"

"Just happy today, Kitty," Jean smiled. "You look like you did when we did your hair for your first date with Piotr."

"When Bobby screamed because he thought my head was overrun with toilet paper-tube aliens?"

"He didn't scream so much as shriek like a little girl," Storm smiled.

"That was the day he realized his playmate was well and truly a female of the species. Now, Emma if you can manage not to use enough hairspray to kill what's left of the ozone layer," Jean smiled, sitting in the vacant chair.

"I'm glad you have so little faith in me," Emma pouted.

_So, he kissed you? I'm impressed with the caveman._

_Nosy._

_You know Betsy and I couldn't resist, you were broadcasting like an episode of Grey's Anatomy._

Jean glanced at Betsy in the mirror, who smiled sheepishly.

_Please tell me I'm not pathetic like Meredith._

_Slightly less so, _Emma smiled.

_Thank you._

Jean squeezed Emma's hand that lay on her shoulder.

**Author's Note: I'm pleased to tell you new chapters to some of the established stories will be up soon! And a new Muse-inspired fic named "Coin" is on the way!**


	12. Thoughts of a Dying Atheist

Logan walked back to his cabin, hot breath coming out in puffs around him as he stalks up the hill in just his jeans and boots. It's autumn, and he's having dreams again. Of a mansion full of kids and friends, a woman that he loves. When he wakes up, he's alone and it's quiet.  
He's lonely.  
He wants to go home.  
He knows she didn't really want him to leave, but his pride wouldn't allow him to stay. Loving her wasn't enough, and living there with their plans shattered around them drove him near insane.  
Still, he wants to go home.

Present Day…

The groom's party had been ready for a half an hour now, all except for Logan. Logan couldn't stop from checking the clock as the minutes sprinted to the moment Kitten would become a married woman. When he couldn't procrastinate any longer, he stood and slipped on his jacket.

"If you're sneakin' off for a cigar, Jean will have your claws mounted on the wall behind her desk," Scott ribbed him good-naturedly.

"I gotta go get your girl, take her for a walk," Logan smirked at Piotr.

The peaceful church took his natural paranoia a moment to get used to; there was no need to be ready for a fight today, even with Jean. He followed the scent of women to the bride's suite and knocked, a green eye looked out at him, wide with surprise.  
"Hi."  
"Can you help a guy out with a tie?"  
"Sure," she closed the door, taking his tie in hand.  
Leaning in close as she pulled the tie around, she smiled as he sniffed at her neck, "Japanese cherry blossom," she commented.  
"You smell great."  
"Thank you," she busied herself with the knot.

"It's that fancy perfume to go with the ridiculous underwear," Logan growled at the pearly-pink silk sheath of a dress she wore, giving her curves an appreciative caress, fingertips lingering a moment on her hip.

"That you broke trying to rip off me."

"No underwear should cost that much," he muttered.

"You liked it," she smiled wickedly at him, leaning against his chest.  
"It's about that time," he smiled, his arm holding her in place.  
"All right, let me just get Kitty-" she paused as he grabbed her hand.  
"Jean."  
"I don't want to fight."  
"I wasn't going to start...I wanted to say..." he faltered a moment, staring at her.  
"What," she smiled.  
"Enjoy what you did for her, making her so happy."  
"Wait here; let me make sure she's ready."  
Logan paced a little as he heard all of the women inside the room talking, giggling, and fussing all at once.  
"What do you think?"  
He looked up and very nearly thought he died and went to heaven. Kitty stood in the doorway in a silk gown Logan remembered Jean constantly repeating as the color 'champagne', a simple veil tucked into the back of her hairdo.  
"Punkin' you're too much for me to look at," he found his voice was coming out hoarse from emotion.  
Kitty hugged him hard, her heart thumping with excitement. When they let go of each other, he stood at her left side, her hand tucked into his elbow.  
Storm and Rogue adjusted the train of her dress and veil until Logan very nearly snapped at them to leave well alone, it was making Kitty more nervous. Or it was possibly making him nervous.  
"Logan, do you mind if there are a few pictures," Jean asked, smoothing Logan's tie one last time.  
"No," he smiled, ignoring the click of the camera.  
"See you out there," she smiled at him.  
"I'm shaking," Kitty whispered, leaning against him.  
"Just hold onto me until I get you there," he whispered back.  
Her hand tightened on his elbow, and he covered her hand with his as the doors opened. Kitty beamed at the ripple of gasps from the guests as they entered the room. A gentle song carried them down the aisle to where Pitor stood waiting. Logan smiled at the young man's expression of awe, knowing he had completely forgotten anything that had been bothering him before.  
"Who gives this woman?"  
"I do," Logan replied.  
He leaned in to kiss her cheek, hearing Kitty whisper 'I love you' before he handed her to Piotr. As they stepped up to the altar, Logan sat beside Jean.  
"You were wonderful," Jean whispered, her lips touching his ear as she spoke.  
He turned his head, looking deep into her eyes as she pulled back. Jean felt her breath catch, and smiled.

"Marriage is a partnership. To trust the person next to you so implicitly that you willingly give your heart and your life to them, is the highest level of trust. Always carry their heart carefully on deliberate footsteps, if you lose sight of the road, you must walk it with extra care…"

Logan could hear Jean's heartbeat quicken, her skin flushed with warmth. From the corner of his eye, he could see that the words had caused her grief. It gripped at his guts, knowing they hadn't been careful to keep each other in mind.  
"I am my Beloved's and my Beloved is mine," Kitty intoned with a smile in her voice to Piotr.  
Logan reached for Jean's hand, with no hesitation she turned her palm into his and laced their fingers together.

As Kitty and Piotr walked down the aisle together, everyone stood to applaud. Logan turned back to Jean, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned into his hard chest, happy tears drying on her cheeks.  
"Logan."  
"What."  
"We have to file out now."  
Logan took her hand and walked down the aisle with her.  
"What now?"  
"We all go back to the mansion, Kitty and Piotr arrive after us and the reception starts."  
"Can I take the tie off?"  
"Yes," Jean laughed, reaching to undo the knot. When the tie was free she pulled it off his neck and took his shirt down three buttons.  
"Tryin' to undress me," he smirked.  
"Behave yourself," she smiled.  
"Sit with me."  
"I am..."  
"Not because you made the seating charts that way, because you want to."  
"Why do you think I made the seating chart that way," she smiled impishly.

Kitty and Piotr arrived to their reception with cheers, loud music, and camera flashes. When Kitty grabbed Logan's hand, he arched his brow with confusion and looked at Jean.

"Go on."

"What?"

"You dance with her," Jean explained.  
"You didn't mention dancing," Logan spoke loud enough to warrant laughs from people standing within a five feet radius.

"It's tradition," Jean insisted.

"You owe me," he threatened.

"Of course, Logan."

One midtempo song later, Logan handed Kitty over to Piotr once more, and took his place next to Jean.

"That wasn't so bad."

"You still owe me," he replied.

"What do I owe you then," she tried not to giggle as his hand skimmed over her butt.

"I want you back," he whispered in her ear.

"I don't deserve you."

"You've got that backwards," he pulled her closer.

"I left you, Logan."

"You aren't going to do it again, Jean."

"What if I do," she whispered.

"I won't leave. I'll be right here convincing you that it's you and me together, no other way."

"Let me give it some thought, okay?"

"Alright. You still owe me."

"Name it," she smiled.

Logan kissed her, and when her head tilted just the slightest degree, kissed her again.

"Get a room," Scott muttered to them with a grin, while Emma led him out onto the dance floor.

"Inappropriate," she smacked his chest playfully, cheeks bright pink.

"You love that about me," he smirked.


	13. Ruled By Secrecy

Betsy padded downstairs on bare feet with a squalling Norah in her arms.  
"Hey Logan."  
"She doesn't sound happy."  
"No, she does not," Betsy sighed.  
"You been up with her awhile now?"  
"An hour. She had only been fussing until now," Betsy swayed on her feet.  
"What, Betsy?"  
"Are you all right," she rubbed Norah's back slowly.  
He sighed, rubbing his jaw with one hand. "'Bout as fine as someone in my position can be."

She looked him over, sitting on the couch barefoot in his suit pants and partially unbuttoned shirt, two bottles of champagne lying empty at his feet. He hadn't been to been able to sleep, and his aim wasn't on getting drunk, or else he'd have harder stuff.  
"Are you going back to your cabin?"  
"Hasn't been decided yet, I don't know what she wants," he sighed.  
"You know what she wants," Betsy yawned.  
"Give her to me."  
"What?"  
"Go back to bed, I'm up anyway," he shrugged a shoulder.  
"Are you sure, Lo?"  
"I offered, didn't I?"  
Betsy didn't wait to ask a second time, placing Norah in Logan's arms.  
"If she doesn't calm down, come and get me."  
"We'll be fine," Logan reassured her.  
"Thank you," Betsy smiled, climbing the stairs.  
"You can stop now," Logan spoke into her ear, and she quieted.  
Jean had heard Norah crying, and met Betsy on the stairs.  
"Do you need me to take Norah," Jean asked.  
"Nope, Logan has her," Betsy tried not to smile, looking at Jean still in her dress.  
"Logan?"  
"She'll be hungry soon, and I don't think he knows how to make her bottle. Would you be a dear and go save him from himself," Betsy smiled.

Jean nodded, taking the stairs slowly. She peeked into the living room, where he sat with Norah in the crook of his right arm.

"How is she," Jean leaned down in front of him, touching Norah's hair.

"Just fine," Logan replied.

"She's gumming her fist."

"Hungry."

"I'll make her a bottle," she offered, walking into the kitchen.

Logan took the warm bottle from Jean, Norah latching on while making content grunts and sighs.

"I haven't told Betsy yet…but, I'm going to accept the offer to be her godfather."

"They'll be pleased," Jean smiled, sitting next to him.

"I'll be able to visit her anytime; it's not too much of a drive from the cabin."

"Oh," Jean tried to cover her disappointment, but only too late.

"Jean, you aren't the type to make decisions lightly. Until you're ready, I'll live at the cabin."

"Logan, please stay."

"I'll stay a few more days, but I'm going back," his tone was firm, mind made up.

"Please." Jean leaned over, kissing him firmly on the mouth. "Stay."

"You aren't playing fair, Jean," he groaned.

"All's fair in love and war, Logan."

Logan placed a kiss on her lips. "You know just how to get to me."  
"I want you to stay, I'll do anything," she whispered, careful not to jostle Norah as she kissed him once more.

"Marry me," he requested.

"I'll marry you…" she smiled.

"Six months from now."

"Six months," she nodded.

Logan looked down at Norah. "I don't want to wait around for something bad to happen to have a child."

"We just agreed to get married in six months, Logan! Now babies," she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"I'm only saying," he shrugged.

Jean lay her head on his shoulder, caressing Norah's hair with light brushes of her fingertips.

"Well, your godparents are together, kid. Won't insure it will keep us from fightin' though," Logan spoke to Norah, who peeked at him with one sleepy eye.

"Logan!"

The next morning, Emma and Betsy stood beside the couch where Logan and Jean lay sleeping, Norah fast asleep on Logan's chest.

"I'd better take Norah."

"Carefully," Emma instructed.

"I know," Betsy hissed, reaching down to pick up Norah.

Logan tightened his grip slightly, opening one wary eye.

"Let me take her, you two sleep in," Betsy whispered.

His arm relaxed, and as soon as Betsy held Norah in her arms, he turned toward Jean and pulled her close, a smile playing on both their lips.


End file.
